Tuesday, March 27, 2012


Pardon me, my once ago,
but I now think that I have won
the invisible raging war between
our bloody battlefields. She
has shared my words in exciting lines
while casting you off like a parasite.
Sound the bells--we've conquered all!
We've captured and extracted that lovely face.
We've ran the course--finished the race
and stampeded the counterpart underfoot,
left him drowning in the dust,
and carried the lady with her words
like a baton across the finish line.
You once took aim at me and hit
your mark with fine dexterity.
My wounds still show--sunlight passes
through holes in my chest and abdomen,
and at one time, I might have fallen,
but now I run with you behind--
your pride and joy clutching my shirt.